


The Yazawas’ Guide to Meeting Your Girlfriend’s Overprotective Parents

by Band_aid



Series: The Horribly Self-Indulgent Series of Unfortunate Nicomaki Events [1]
Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Maki is Half-Jewish, Nico is a Dirty Sunshine!! Whale, i mean it's not really an AU 'cause it could be canon but yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:59:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5049508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Band_aid/pseuds/Band_aid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico panics over having to meet Maki’s parents and the rest of muse tries to help. Tries being keyword.</p><p>Alt. Summary: Nico tries to balance her whaling lifestyle and her love life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Yazawas’ Guide to Meeting Your Girlfriend’s Overprotective Parents

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i've got nothing to say really ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

When Maki told Nico her parents were expecting her over for dinner Friday night, Nico nearly died—literally, choking on her roll, and wanting to laugh in her face because it was so awfully last-minute. Not a good way to go, but preferably better than having to meet the terrifying father of her girlfriend, who was a tall and intimidating man with thick, judgmental eyebrows and a penchant for detecting bullshit. Maybe she didn't know the man personally, but she'd heard stories from Maki, and once saw him waiting for her after school when they were kids to go to a piano recital; Nico was entirely sure the punishing glare he had was meant for her.

Now, it wasn't that Nico wasn't _excited_ to meet her girlfriend's parents; maybe excited to the point of hemorrhaging anxiety, sure. Although that was a little gross to say, it wasn’t really an exaggeration. And she didn't doubt her lovability at all in any way--in fact, she prided herself on her charm: people fell instantly in love with her just with a smile, packaged and delivered straight to the heart, but even the great idol Nico-nii had to admit when a challenge seemed even a little too daunting for _her_. She must've said all of "odd mumbling sounds muffled by food" and "some iteration of 'I'll see you later' behind the annoyance of coughing" coupled by her quickened feet carrying her far, _far_ away from the cafe and leaving behind an exasperated Maki. Nico was sure she’d tried to pursue her, but Maki, having only started her second semester of college (and Nico having studied at said college already for two and a half years), knew her way around slightly worse than her amazing girlfriend, and Nico managed to beat her at every turn.

That, of course, left only one other option. Maki would no doubt call her phone probably four times, leave six messages, and then eventually pretend as though she hadn’t meant to send the previous three or, more likely, act aloof and detached as though she didn’t care when, in fact, she was probably worried sick. She’d managed to dodge Maki's calls by a stroke of genius: giving her phone to Nozomi. Her friend was perfectly willing to hang onto her phone, ignore Maki's calls, _and_ use her LP up for her Sunshine!! Aqours app (even if Nozomi wasn't _nearly_ as good at it as Nico, it still was better than letting such perfectly good LP go to waste). She even gave Nico her own phone to use in case she needed to call anyone. Nozomi was a true friend; she reminded herself to never take Nozomi for granted and thank her tenfold when she swung by to pick it up later.

But, first, Calculus beckoned sickeningly to her, and she couldn't afford to skip class one more time.

Nico stepped into the room only barely on time--as per usual--and glared at the person who had taken her usual seat. The room wasn’t too large, certainly not lecture-hall size, but still had a fair good amount of students so that almost every seat was taken up. Meaning, she was forced into the one seat nobody liked--the one that creaked when you moved even an inch. She left her notebook in her backpack (for a moment, she swore she could _hear_ Nozomi and Umi's disappointed faces) and instead chose to lean on the cold desk and breathe an agonizing sigh. The professor began to take roll slowly and deliberately—another reason she despised this class—and left Nico to dwindle in her own thoughts.

She had to meet Maki's parents.

Maki's _parents_.

The man and woman who birthed and raised her. The man and woman who would probably kill her if she broke her heart. The man and woman who could probably break her into pieces and then fix her up—only to break her _again_ , and harder.

Her stomach sank. She was so unbelievably, absolutely fucked. There was no conceivable way she was going to make it out of this alive. She could practically see the ending right now: her broken body on the floor, twitching lifelessly, Maki hovering over her disfigured corpse, crying, and her father laughing maniacally in the background. She shuddered. _Death by parent_ is not exactly what she envisioned being her grave. Maybe she should give a call to Cocoa, Cocoro, and Cotaro before leaving, just to say goodbye. Tell her fans she loves them and whatnot. Oh, that meant she had to say goodbye to her idol career and her adoring fans, and while that would take the hassle out of trying to go anywhere and not be recognized, that meant she would instead bring tears and frowns to their faces instead of smiles. And, of course, she wouldn’t be able to sing and dance, because deteriorating skeletons can’t dance last time she checked.

She’d need to write a will too: _to my loving family, my not-as-loving girlfriend, and the rest of my adoring fans--and the rest of μ’s--I bequeath: a nico nico nii, because I’m dirt-poor from whaling and I literally have nothing, you ungrateful little shits. Don’t touch my waifu._ Yeah. Something along those lines sounded good. She took out a sheet of paper and started writing, crossing out word after word and making the wording sound as mean as possible while also doodling cute hearts above and below the mention of her best girl.

Just then, she felt a vibration in her bag. Momentarily, she looked down at the flicker of light emanating from the pocket, then glanced back at the professor, who was practically obscured behind several stacks of papers neatly placed on her desk. With no way to look past said papers while she took attendance, Nico dove for the phone.

 

> niconii: You seemed tense. Something wrong?~

 

She looked down at the name in a moment of confusion before realizing that this was _not_ her own phone, and no, she was not mysteriously somehow texting herself.

 

> washiwashi: you know EXACTLY whats up. there's no way eli didn't tell u.
> 
> niconii: Guilty as charged. :)
> 
> niconii: But really, I doubt you have much to worry about. Her parents aren't that scary. At least, no scarier than a ghost~
> 
> washiwashi: no nozomi pls prepare my casket bc this is it. this is literally it, i'm going to die and i'm not even 21 yet.
> 
> niconii: Nicocchi don't be so dramatic.
> 
> washiwashi: NO NOZOMI YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I'M LIKE 80% SURE HE'S GONNA KILL ME
> 
> niconii: 20% isn't hopeless. ;)
> 
> washiwashi: you. are not. helping.

 

Nico snapped to attention when her name was called for roll, and she barely croaked out a "Here!".

 

> niconii: Are you nervous, Nicocchi?
> 
> washiwashi: no why would i be nervous?? thats dumb
> 
> niconii: Someone isn’t being very honest with me~
> 
> washiwashi: no see i'm being entirely sincere :> look i have my cute smiley to prove it

 

And, well, the conversation derailed from there fairly quickly.

 

> niconii: Where’s your sense of honesty??
> 
> washiwashi: LOOK WHO’S TALKING
> 
> washiwashi: look just keep my LP down ok?? there’s an event going on i can’t afford to waste any of it yea
> 
> niconii: You got it~
> 
> niconii: You don’t mind if I do a solo scout, hm?
> 
> washiwashi: what noooo you’ll just get a rare :((
> 
> washiwashi: ugh fine i GUESS i'll be ok w/ a rare
> 
> niconii: Hee~ thanks. But you should probably be paying attention in class. ;)

 

Just as she’d finished reading the text, Nico tore her eyes from the screen and focused them instead on a rather irritated Calculus professor who _probably_ didn’t get paid enough to put up with Nico, tapping in irritation on the board next to what Nico determined immediately to be an unsolvable equation. At least, for her. The rest of the students nearby her sighed in relief that Nico was the chosen victim for today. Nico slid her arm over her notebook, hoping the professor couldn’t see that she wasn’t taking notes but instead writing a morbid, half-assed will.

She huffed as she dug her balled fist into her cheek and squinted at the board, pretending she couldn’t read it. After thirty seconds of Nico slowly reading the problem out, the professor let out a strangled “never mind” and continued on, leaving Nico to dig through her text messages again. She _oh_ so wanted to browse through Nozomi’s supposedly “friendly” texts with Eli, the name “Elichika” surrounded by hearts in her contacts just tantalizing, _begging_ to be opened, but what kind of a friend would she be if she--

Eh. To be fair, Nozomi would probably do the same thing to her. She opened it up and began to scroll through each painfully elusive text. One teasing comment that could perhaps be considered flirting if only the flirters weren’t dancing around the subject and pretending to be friendly after another, and she honestly couldn’t take it anymore. The two were so obviously smitten with each other it made her want to _gag_ and thank god she wasn’t like that with Maki--granted, Eli and Nozomi weren’t exactly a _thing_ , but they might as well have been. She might as well peek around with what she’s been texting with the _rest_ of _μ’s_.

Just as she opened up her conversation with Hanayo, the phone in her hand vibrated. Nico received another message from Nozomi. Only instead of a teasing comment or some rendition of playful banter, however, it was a picture--a picture, specifically, of Nico’s favorite Aqours girl plastered across the screen, glittering shiny and sparkly new, and the fabled letters “UR” embroidering the top left corner of the card.

She let out a shrill shriek and was immediately asked to leave class afterwards.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh? You’re back early,” Nozomi grinned from where she sat placidly on the couch, hair tied loosely into a side braid and slung over her shoulder. She rested her cheek on her forearm, opting to stay firmly put on the couch and only reaching over to pause the show she was watching. Some weird, dumb, marriage game show.

“I, uh, got kicked out of class,” she said sheepishly, extending her arm out over the back of the couch and Nozomi, instantly understanding her childish mannerism, took her phone from off the coffee table and handed it to her. Immediately, her fingers dove straight for the Sunshine!! app, tapping her member list and finding the beautiful new UR sitting perfectly at the front of her cards list after sorting by rarity.

“Again? Jeez, Nicocchi, if I didn’t know you’d better, I’d say you were _trying_ to get kicked out.”

Nico fumed, shoving her phone in her pocket. “Um, excuse you? It’s _your_ fault, technically. You didn’t _have_ to text me that picture, but you did, and I lost my shit thanks to you.” She paused for a moment. “How the _hell_ did you even solo scout her--wait, no, I don’t even want to know. You’ll probably say some weird spiritual thing. Next time I need to do a solo scout I’ll ask you.”

Nozomi looked over at her knowingly, offering a cheeky shrug. “Elicchi’s out today, just so you know. She has ballet practice.”

“This _early_?” Nico took her spot on the couch next to Nozomi, who was already aware of Nico’s intent to, frankly, never get up from their extremely comfortable if well-worn couch.

“No, not necessarily. But she likes to go early when no one is using the studio.”

Nico hummed, and Nozomi pressed play on the remote again. Nozomi and Eli were merely visiting for the break--America and Japan had largely different break months, and the two of them usually came back for the larger ones. Nozomi was studying cinematography, and Eli had returned to her ballet practice (supposedly, it was Really Difficult to flatten your boobs in a leotard, according to Eli). She checked her LP to be sure it was as low as it could possibly go (to be fair, she had nearly three hundred and so LP, and it took a _while_ to drain it all), but it blinked red and Nozomi offered a “told-you-so” grin. Relinquishing her phone and ignoring the itch to play or check up on her rank, Nico settled into the couch and stared at whatever boring show Nozomi was watching. She must’ve sat staring for nearly ten minutes--maybe it was longer, but she certainly wasn’t absorbing any of what was happening. No, her scattered mind was too focused on the events of Friday night, postponed only by her incredulous coping method of hiding and waiting until the problem goes away.

But really, what _could_ she do? She was a soon-to-be world-famous idol, with a promising career ahead of her, but Maki’s parents would only see a washed-up college student with no determined major in mind. She couldn’t simply “Nico nico nii” her way out of this one, either; her father was expecting _actual_ well-thought out answers, probably with proper citations--she had to at least fake that she knew what she was saying. And how was she supposed to greet him? _Shalom_? That’s the word, right? Do they even speak Hebrew in their household? Was her dad culturally Jewish? Did Maki expect her to do something that she didn’t tell her about?

“Nicocchi, you’re tapping the remote.”

Nico furrowed her brows and looked down. Indeed, her fingers had been tapping the remote in a rhythm similar to that of “Step! ZERO to ONE” on expert. She retracted her hand, chuckling in embarrassment as Nozomi moved the remote from between them to the couch arm.

“It’s one of the match songs,” she explained while bouncing her knee.

“I know. I just played it for you.”

“Oh. Right.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Nozomi watching the show and occasionally turning towards Nico when she finally spoke up again.

“Are you sure you aren’t nervous?”

She was taken out of her trance when the moving images in front of her paused once more. Nico tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a wheeze. She put her hand on her chest, cleared her throat, and threw on her best “Nico-nii” smile, accompanied by her signature pose. “Of course I’m not! The Great Idol Nico-nii doesn’t get--”

Nozomi didn’t necessarily frown, but the look she gave Nico was definitely one of “I can see right through you.” Nico dropped her arms and frowned. “Okay, yeah, maybe a _little_. But just barely. I mean, wouldn’t _you_ be nervous if you had to go meet your girlfriend’s family? Especially when her dad is a scary Jewish man.”

Nozomi laughed, almost to herself, and Nico pouted in annoyance. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“Sorry, Nicocchi, I’m not laughing at you,” Nozomi said between chuckles, “but what you just said--it _was_ funny.”

“What’s so funny about it?”

“Nothing—never mind. You don’t have anything to worry about, Nicocchi.”

Nico crossed her arms and turned away from Nozomi. “By the fact that you’re laughing at me, I’m pretty sure I have a lot to worry about.”

“So you _are_ worried then.”

Nico groaned, slamming her head back on the sofa.

Nozomi offered a sympathetic smile. “If you’re worried about it, why don’t you practice, then? Elicchi and I can pretend to be her parents if it’ll--”

“No. _No_ , no. _No_.”

For a moment, Nozomi looked taken aback. “No? Why?”

“The last time Eli decided to ‘help out,’ she got way too into it and got mad jealous. You know, that time with the spaghetti.” Nico frowned at the memory.

Nozomi conceded, drawing her hands back. “Alright, alright. Fair enough. But you should ask _somebody_ to help. Maybe Rin and Hanayo would be willing to help you out?”

Nico shook her head. “No way. I mean, they’re nice and all and they’d be _willing_ to help out, yeah, but like, there’s no way they can do it. Rin can’t drop her quirk long enough to act serious and Hanayo doesn’t have the heart to be cruel.”

“Don’t you think you’re painting Maki’s parents in a bad light?”

“No! I’m just being _honest_. You’re the one who told me to be more of it!” Nico huffed.

“Now, now, Nicocchi. No need to get puffy.”

Nico slid farther from Nozomi on the couch so she could lay down and twist herself into her “I’m kinda mad at you but I don’t want to leave the room, so if I bury my face in the couch arm I don’t have to look at you” position. Truly a child and not a future-idol-slash-college student. Comically, her cheeks puffed in irritation as Nozomi pat her leg.

She mumbled into her arms, “Maybe if I just don’t go they’ll forget about me and won’t feel the need to break my neck.”

Nozomi leaned forward, resting her chin on the palms of her hands. “Now that’s no good. You can’t hide forever. You’ll have to go eventually; and besides, you’ll crush Maki’s fragile little heart if you don’t go. She needs to be treated like a lady.”

“Well, _I_ need to be treated like a lady too, but you don’t see any overprotective dad coddling me, do you?”

Nozomi hummed, opting to change her plan of attack since Nico spiraled into silence. “Would you like me to do a reading to see how well your meeting will go?”

She shook her head.

“How about if I go in your stead? I’ll pretend to be Maki’s girlfriend for you.~”

“Wh--no! No, of course not! Don’t do that, stupid. _I’m_ her girlfriend.”

“Hmm. Jealous, aren’t we?”

“Shut _up_.”

“Well, you could ask a friend how you’re supposed act in such formal company.”

“We don’t know anybody like that, Nozomi. Everyone is too casual.”

“What about Umi?”

Nico bolted upright after hearing her words and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She closed her mouth as she thought it over. “Wait, you know… that’s not a bad idea. It’s _Umi_. She’s practically a dashing prince--she’d know exactly what to say to her parents!” She turned to Nozomi and immediately pounced on her in a hug. “Nozomi, thanks--oh my god. I think I might actually be able to do it. I might _actually_ be able to meet her parents and not die.” Without giving Nozomi a chance to speak, she shot up and ran towards the door all while typing something on her phone. She accidentally tripped over the coffee table leg in her rush, but still made it out the door somehow, barely even shutting it behind her.

Nozomi sighed as she reached for the remote once more and pressed play, hoping that Eli wouldn’t call her cell anytime soon.

 

* * *

 

Not even five feet into the coffee shop, Nico immediately sat down, ordered her usual, and took out her phone.

Playing in public (and in such a crowded place to boot) was usually only an option in emergency situations, but Nico couldn’t afford to head back to her apartment now. Not when Maki was probably standing there already, knocking on her doorstep. She couldn’t allow herself to get _too_ into it in case Maki _also_ suspiciously stopped by the coffee shop. If Nozomi told her where she’d be, Nico was going to have to retract the thank you she never actually _said_ to Nozomi but was certainly thinking. Fortunately for Nico, she’d decided to bring her headphones with her--a classic whale move. There was absolutely _no_ way she’d let Sunshine!! User ChikaChika take her number one spot on the ranking board. Fuck that User.

The moment she entered a lobby, two users dodged. That left a poor, innocent newbie to crumble underneath her overpowered team. Poor thing never stood a chance; it was kind of sad, really, how Nico could get a forty-five combo and _still_ beat someone with a full combo--it’s not like Nico would ever get such a low combo _anyways_ , and it’s not like the newbie had actually managed to _get_ a full combo but still. It took all the skill out of what was supposed to be a _rhythm_ game. Mixed with cute girls and a card-collecting feature.

Her coffee came, and she found herself in a score match too deep to really acknowledge the poor barista, who walked away confused and offended by her silence. A few people started to stare, but eventually turned back to their own cups. Nico shrunk in embarrassment before taking her earphones out and sipping at her coffee. She took the moment to close the app and text Umi and Kotori and ask if they could possibly meet up today or tomorrow, and if so, when and where.

She took a glance outside the window and was struck with panic when she saw someone who vaguely looked like Maki--but ultimately wasn’t when they turned around and Nico could clearly see their face. She was becoming _paranoid_ now. What was Maki going to do anyways? Force her home? She couldn’t _control_ her. The only authority Maki had over her was the Sunshine!! money she gave her as holiday and birthday presents (this, Nico noted, was a great time to have a girlfriend who celebrated both Hanukkah (Chanukah?) _and_ Christmas). That money, and subsequently those iTunes gift cards, were her lifeline. If Maki severed that….

No, _no_ , do not think about that. She had bigger, more important problems. Like what to wear to dinner. Or even what to _say_ at dinner. Should she bring a present? That’s customary, right? What could she bring, though? She didn’t have any money and wasn’t getting her paycheck until Saturday. Would they mind if she brought a treat of some sort, maybe with tomato in it? But wouldn’t that be insinuating that she thinks their food is gross?

 _Ugh_. Why does meeting your girlfriend’s parents have to be so _hard_?

She should just take her mind off of it. Play a few more rounds—she had the loveca to spare. And maybe dominating some more matches would help clear her head. Nico paid a loveca to refill her LP (which would, of course, offer her many, _many_ matches) and prepared herself for technical difficulty. She tapped her fingers on the tabletop--a habit born out of practice--and grinned when she recognized the song. She must’ve played this one dozens and dozens of times. There was absolutely _no_ way someone would manage to beat her at this, aside from the fact that her smile team was unbeatable anyways.

Forty seconds into the song, something rang from inside her purse. She panicked and tore her eyes from the screen for only a second, but it was _just_ enough to make her mis-tap and get just a single mocking Good on the screen. She nearly freaked before realizing she was in _public_ and should finish the song before--

_Ring!_

Oh _god_ , she was going to kill whoever was calling her--wait, how were they even--if her phone was--

She accidentally stole Nozomi’s phone.

Well, okay. Maybe “steal” is too harsh a term. “Accidentally borrowed” sounds better. Still, there was a score match going on and she did _not_ have time to answer this.

The other customers around her stared as she continued to ignore the fervent rings from her bag, though eventually answered it on the final ring as _soon_ as the match was done.

“Hello? This is Yazawa Nico,” she said, glaring at how close the person in second came to beating her score.

“Wh--Nico? Why do you have Nozomi’s phone?” Eli asked.

“I accidentally forgot to give it back to her.” Nico said matter-of-factly. “Did you need something from her?”

“No, I was just checking in. We just finished practice. Where are you?”

Nico hesitated. “At… the library?”

There’s a deadpan silence over the phone.

“The library.”

“Yes. That _is_ what I said.”

“The _library_ ,” she repeats skeptically.

“What I said didn’t change since the last time you said that.”

“Is the library always so noisy at this time of day?”

Nico cringed. She nearly forgot that she was in a _public_ coffee shop, and during rush-hour no less. “Uh. Yes?”

“Nico.”

“Okay, fine. I’m at the coffee shop. Just don’t tell Maki-chan, okay? I _really_ don’t need to see her right now.”

“Huh?” Eli sounded dismayed over the phone. “Did you two have a fight? Again?”

“Uh, no?” Nico answered, somewhere between aghast and offended.

“Did you do something stupid? Again?”

“N--why did you say ‘again’?”

“Then what’s wrong?” she asked, completely ignoring Nico’s question.

Nico sighed.

Eli didn’t give her a chance to respond. “Is it because you have to meet her parents?”

“Ding ding. We have a winner.”

“Oh, Nico. Don’t be so upset about it. It’ll be fun, I’m sure. Maki’s parents sound nice.”

“Oh-ho, _really_. They sound nice? Nice enough to tell you they’re going to murder you before they do it, maybe.”

“Nico, you’re overreacting.”

“What is with you and Nozomi acting like I’m over-exaggerating. I’m _not_ , and if you think I’m lying, you can ask Maki herself.”

“First of all, over-exaggerating isn’t even a word. I don’t think. Secondly, I don’t doubt that they’re _strict_. At least, her papa is. But you shouldn’t have any trouble getting them to like you. If they see how much you and Maki care about each other, I’m sure they’d be willing to overlook any… undesirable traits.”

Nico wanted to gag. “You just both insulted me and sounded like some fairytale storyteller happy-maker matchmaker in the same sentence, and I really don’t know which to respond to.”

“Pick your poison.”

“Alright. First: um, ew. Second: um, no? I’m Yazawa _Nico_. There’s literally nothing bad about me. I’m an amazing cook--at least I _can_ cook. Did you know one time Maki-chan tried to cook for a dinner date at my place for my birthday and ended up burning the noodles? They’re _noodles_ for god’s sake, they’re not that hard to make. But apparently _Maki-chan_ found a way to ruin those, too.”

“Do you plan on berating your girlfriend in front of her parents? Because if so: great job. A+. I’m sure they’ll love you.”

“Oh, fuck off. Why did you even call? I’m gonna hang up now--”

“Wait. Nico,” Eli stopped her mid-sentence, and Nico raised the phone back to her ear. “I know I’m picking on you a lot, but seriously. I’m sure her parents will have no problem getting to know you. Just play it cool.”

“Right. Cool. I can totally do cool.” No she couldn’t. She could do _cute_. Cute was her specialty. But not cool.

“Cool. Okay. Could you tell Nozomi to give me a call when you return her phone? Thanks.”

The call clicked out, and Nico was alone once more. Well, at least she had the company of several stares as she realized, once _again_ , that she was in a Public. Coffee. Shop. And _probably_ should have taken her call outside. Eli probably just interrupted with that last bit too so _she_ could hang up instead of the other way around. What a control freak.

Nico sighed, opening up her app. She conceded; she might as well just resign to her fate--at least she’d spend her last few moments playing Sunshine!! and maybe keeping her rank. Maybe she could ask Nozomi to continue playing in her honor. She couldn’t whale as hard as Nico could, and she didn’t have access to Nico’s (i.e., Maki’s) limitless gay idol girl fund, but it was better than allowing Sunshine!! User ChikaChika take her place.

 _Speak_ of the devil. ChikaChika was in this lobby. Nico grinned, ready to crush her opponent in the dirt. Oh, she was _so_ ready.

The match started.

Twenty seconds in, she received a text.

 

> alpacasrlove: Umi-chan and I are actually just by the mall if you’d like to meet up with us. (  ・8  ・) How does two-ish sound? I’ll see you then, Nico-chan. ♥

 

Nico nearly cried.

 

* * *

 

“It’s been a while, huh, Nico-chan?”

“Huh? Wh--oh, yeah.”

“Nico, it would be a lot more polite if you _weren’t_ playing your game with company.”

“You make it sound like we’re at my apartment,” Nico said, never once taking her eyes off the phone laid flat on the table.

“ _You’re_ the one who invited _us_ out, Nico-chan. You should be more polite.” As much as her sense of responsibility and tradition annoyed Nico from time to time, it was that exact character trait that brought Nico to seek help from her.

It was a minute or so more until Nico finally put her phone away, taking her left earphone out. “Right, so--” Nico coughed, “ _anyways_ , I need your help.”

“With?” Umi asked cautiously.

“Uh, well. Umi, you’d say you’re pretty charismatic, right?”

“Um,” she stuttered, “I wouldn’t _quite_ say--”

“Perfect. I have to meet Maki’s parents Friday night for dinner. And I don’t really know what to do. So I was wondering if you guys could, like, write me a speech or something. It’s kind of like writing lyrics but more formal, right?”

Umi deadpanned, and Nico’s smile veered into a frown.

“ _This_ is what you invited us out to talk about? Really, Nico?”

Nico rubbed the back of her neck in the midst of an awkwardly busy mall center cafe. Though the afternoon was certainly not the mall’s most busiest hours--especially on a weekday--the fact that Nico had rarely ever set foot in such an expansive “rich-kid store” made her feel even more alienated. She never had the _money_ to get food (or even _anything_ , really, did you see the prices on those designer dresses?) here, which was why today’s tab was on Umi. Well, Umi didn’t know that yet, but she would. Very soon. And that was why Nico had texted Kotori--she was really the only thing standing between an angry Umi and a frightened Nico.

The lack of space between her chair, the table, and the rushing passersby left her in one of the most claustrophobic positions in her life. Combined with the way Umi’s piercing glare stared her down, Nico felt like she was being judged at the gates of hell--or something. Wait, do Jews believe in hell? Nah, right? Shit, did Maki’s parents even care that she _wasn’t_ Jewish, or that she had literally no clue how the whole Jew Thing works? Were Maki’s parents expecting her to marry some rich Jewish snob? She frowned at that thought; Nico was _way_ better than any nerdy mommy’s boy--so _what_ if she wasn’t Jewish. And how hard could it be? All she really had to do was figure out how their holidays worked--there was that one that was near Christmas that lasted eight days, and then… something about the birth of trees… or some other.

“Nico.”

She realized she’d been daydreaming. For probably the fourth time that day. “Huh?”

Umi’s hand nearly slipped and her forehead almost met the table in a rather un-Umi-like way, but she caught herself just in time. She opened her mouth to berate her when Kotori cut her off, silencing her with a hand on her own that made Umi flush.

“We’d be happy to help. Did you write anything you wanted to say down?”

Nico looked off to the side. “Well--”

“That means ‘no,’” Umi added, leaning back and sighing. “She was probably too busy playing her game to even think it over.”

True, but unnecessary. Nico glared at her, as though to say _‘You already fucked up my combo once and I’m still pissed at you, so you’d better watch where you step_.’ Umi glared back.

They sat in silence for a moment, Nico picking occasionally at a bowl of rice while Kotori glanced back and forth between the two. She asked Umi if she was going to finish her food, who slid the plate over to Kotori for her to enjoy. Nico stared at the rice, still caught in her daydream. Maybe it was about the birth of Moses? He was kind of like the Jewish Jesus, right? But wait. Wasn’t Jesus _already_ Jewish? Ugh, religion made her head hurt. How did Maki deal with remembering both the Jewish holidays _and_ Christmas?

Kotori eventually cleared her throat after swallowing. “Well, we can help anyways, Umi-chan. Besides, sometimes thinking it over too much can end up making things worse when you stress. Isn’t that right?” Kotori said, turning to Umi, who sat next to her.

Umi’s eyes widened, and she turned away. Nico cocked a brow at her.

“That--Kotori, I don’t think that’s really related.”

Kotori tilted her head. “Huh? Not related? But if you tell Nico-chan the story, I’m sure it’ll help her in some way.”

Nico leaned forward. “What story?”

“N-nothing! There’s no story! Kotori is just kidding.”

At the mention of her name, Kotori huffed. “I’m not kidding! I’m a hundred percent serious.”

“But it’s _embarrassing_.”

Nico leaned even further forward. Now she _needed_ to know.

Kotori, for once _not_ oblivious to Nico’s incessant physical gestures, rested her hands on the table. “Well, Umi-chan wasn’t as confident as you think she was. Or maybe she was, but she kind of failed in the end. Really dramatically. Poor Umi-chan was so defeated--it was kind of cute, actually.”

Umi had long since turned away and was staring at a very peculiar and interesting point on the wall, but Kotori still latched onto her arm in quite possibly the grossest display of romantic and public affection Nico had ever seen. Thank whatever god Maki believed in that they didn’t act like Kotori and Umi did in public. _Yuck_.

“Umi-chan apologized profusely for her affections, and my mother kept trying to placate her, but Umi insisted she battle a warrior of her choice for my honor in a competition. Even though my mother’s known her since she was just a little kid--”

“Kotori…”

“Anyway, Nico-chan,” she continued, “it’s a part of the experience to mess up and act awkward. Even Umi-chan isn’t always a dashing prince.” Was Umi even a dashing prince to begin with? She always seemed totally awkward to Nico. More like a vulnerable servant bidding every of Kotori’s wills with just a single glance. “And my mother isn’t even that scary! At least, I don’t think she is.” She offered a patient smile, rubbing Umi’s shoulder as she was quite obviously reliving some terrifying and horrific experience.

“Umi-chan was so nervous she accidentally knocked her food on the floor with her elbow. And some of it even splashed on my mom. Then when she tried to fix it, she ended up nearly breaking a nice vase my mom received as a gift.” Kotori paused for a moment, then quickly continued as if she’d remembered something. “And then she managed to break our sink while she was trying to get the stains out of her blouse. Eheh. She kept apologizing, and my mother said it was fine, but Umi-chan didn’t really believe her. She still keeps inviting me over instead of the other way around.”

The poor, embarrassed Umi looked as though her soul had floated away from her body and left her empty. Nico’s gaze dropped to the floor in shock. If _Umi_ couldn’t even properly attend such a formal event, how was _she_ supposed to do so?

“Oh my god,” Nico groaned, “I’m doomed.”

“Don’t say that…” Umi frowned as Nico face-planted onto the table.

“I thought you two were actually going to _help_ me in some way, but that was just as useless of advice as Eli’s. No one can help me. No one can save me. I’m going to die. It was nice knowing all of you. Please give my will to Cocoa next time you see her. And tell Mama that dinner’s in the oven.”

“Nico-chan…”

“Nope. No, this is fine. This is just perfectly, absolutely fine. Just tell the others I love them, ‘kay? But don’t be too obvious about it. Be smooth. Don’t make me sound like a--”

“ _Nico_ -chan,” Kotori interrupted, “like I said before: don’t worry about messing up. Umi-chan messed up, and she still came out alive from it.”

“Only barely…”

“See?” Kotori gestured to the girl sitting next to her. Nico lifted her face from the table begrudgingly.

“If embarrassment doesn’t kill me, then Maki’s father _definitely_ will.” Nico tapped a finger on her phone aimlessly against a black screen. With each clack against the glass, Umi grew more irritated. “Like, her parents are super rich and super smart. What if they look at me and think I’m not… like, _worthy_ or something. Which is dumb, I mean, ‘cause really I’m way out of Maki’s league if you think about it.” She put her elbows on the table.

Umi narrowed her eyes, but didn’t say anything.

“I guess I can’t just show up completely unprepared though. Otherwise I’ll end up making a complete fool of myself. I have to do _something_ , or I’ll never forgive myself. And Maki-chan won’t forgive me either.” She paused, staring down at her drink and the muddled reflection within it. “I mean, I’m _Yazawa Nico_ , Super Idol. There’s almost nothing I can’t do. If I can survive the affection of a few hundred adoring fans in a crowded airport, then I can totally survive the night with Maki’s father. Yeah! He won’t know what hit him! I’ll just need some help.”

She stood up rather abruptly and thanked the two of them (mostly Kotori) for listening to her before walking off, waving behind her.

Kotori smiled and waved back while Umi sighed. “She left us with the bill.”

 

* * *

 

“Just sit, uh… right over there. That’ll be good.”

Cocoro listened diligently, attempting to sit still, but otherwise allowing her leg to bounce up and down against the sofa. To say she and her twin sister were excited would be an understatement; they were practically bubbling to help out their big sister with something important and close to her heart (even if Nico assured them that she totally had it all under control, she totally didn’t--liar). She held her arms out in front of her while Cotaro made toddler-like grabby-hands at the pretend expensive food that might have been laid out on the coffee table if the Yazawas could afford it. The living room was _probably_ the fanciest place in the apartment anyways, and Nico needed to make the experiment as close to the actual situation as possible.

Nico took a step back and examined the scene, humming to herself and tapping her chin in a rich-kid manner, almost like how she pictured Maki’s father to think as he rubbed his very Jewish, very expensive beard.

“Is something wrong, Nico-nee?”

She hummed louder, looking around the room. “It’s too empty.”

“Empty?” Cocoro echoed.

“If it’s a rich kid’s house, it’s gotta have, like, five feet tall arbitrary portraits hanging on the walls, right? Like, everywhere.” She wandered over to the linen closet, pulling out a few finger paintings Cocoa and Cocoro did when they were younger, and slapped some tape on them, sticking them to the walls. Not the most _elegant_ decorative wall ever, but it’d have to do.

Nico stepped away, examining her handiwork, and then after a series of adjustments, moved to sit in a creaking chair she’d placed opposite of the couch. Cocoa, sitting next to Cocoro, looked over the script Nico had given her just forty minutes ago and frowned to herself.

“Everyone have their scripts?” Cocoro and Cocoa nodded. Nico bent over to be sure Cotaro had his before sitting up straight once more. “Okay, are we ready to start--”

“Nico-nee, how do you say this word?” Cocoa interrupted, holding out the top piece of paper. Nico leaned forward, taking it from her hands, and briskly looked over it for the word Cocoa’s finger had been pointing at.

“Capricious.”

“Cuhpreshous? What does it mean?”

“That doesn’t matter, just read the script. It’s fine; Nico-nee will take care of everything.”

“What about this one, Nico-nee?” Cocoro spoke up. She did just as her sister did, and Nico sighed.

“Exorbitant.”

“Ex… ex…”

“Just say expensive. It’s a rich-person word that means ‘rich’ for rich people like Maki-chan and her family.”

Cocoa wiggled in her seat, as though itching to ask a question. “Do all rich people use rich words?”

Nico shrugged. “More-or-less.”

Cocoa and Cocoro shared a glance, exchanging scripts. Cotaro made a sound on the ground--something that sounded like “this,” and Nico bent down to look at the small piece of paper in his hands.

“That says ‘tsundere,’ Cotaro.” Nico sighed, leaning back and rubbing her eyes in exasperation.

Cocoro huffed. “Why do we get hard words and Cotaro doesn’t?”

“Because Cotaro just has to pretend to be a stubborn tsundere. All he has to say is ‘it’s not like I _like_ Super Idol Nico-chan or anything.’”

“But doesn’t Maki-chan?” Cocoa added.

“That’s why she’s such a tsuntsun, Cocoa. Okay, let’s focus now. We have a lot of work to do, and only…” Nico turned her head to read the clock on the oven, frowning. “...only an hour and a half before it’s your bedtimes. Don’t you want to work hard for Nico-nee?”

Cocoa and Cocoro beamed with excitement, nodding excitedly. The two of them breathed in deeply, assuming a rigid, adult-like posture on the couch, while Cotaro continued to look up at his older siblings from the floor.

“Okay, kids. Ready?”

Cocoro and Cocoa nodded in unison. Nico sucked in a deep breath, biding her time and preparing herself for the simulation. Her heart suddenly threatened to beat its way out of her chest, eyes glossing over with determination. Cocoa cleared her throat and closed her eyes, and when she opened them, they were filled with what Nico considered pure hatred. She froze.

“Yazawa Nico,” she said in the deepest voice she could muster.

“Y-yes, Nishikino, sir?”

“Explain to me why _you_ are qualified to treat my Princess the way she deserves to be treated. Why should I allow you to take my daughter’s hand in marriage--”

“...We’re not getting _married_ , Cocoa. That’s not part of the script.”

Cocoa glared and cleared her throat. “That’s Mr. Nishikino to you.”

Cocoro nodded in vapid agreement, breaking character. “How can you expect to love Maki-chan if you don’t even treat her parents with respect!”

Great. They were questioning the _script_.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Can we just start over?” Nico groaned and rubbed her face, letting her eyes adjust after she’d rubbed too hard. Her siblings nodded in satisfaction, resuming their places.

“Um, before we start again… Nico-nee?”

“Yes, Cocoro?”

“Could you say hi to Maki-chan for me when you go?”

Nico smiled softly, if not exhaustedly. “Of course I will. And Maki-chan’ll probably have something to give to you too. But I can’t go to Maki-chan’s house for dinner if I’m not prepared, right? So we’ve gotta give it our all.”

Cocoa and Cocoro nodded. Cotaro continued to drool on the floor.

“Alright everyone! One more time!”

_“Nico nico nii!”_

After their (practical) family tradition, Nico reinvigorated her earnest desire to actually _succeed_ at this family dinner date. She was totally going to _wreck_ it--in a good way, not a bad way--and Maki’s parents would be so impressed with her they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. They’d practically give up their daughter then and there. They’d have to adopt Nico as their _new_ (and improved) daughter. Would that make Nico Jewish, then? She wasn’t really sure if she was up to the task. Being a Jew seemed difficult, what with having to recite prayers in a totally different language and all.

 _Speaking_ of recitations though. She still had a script to read.

Cocoa cleared her throat. “I ask you again, Yazawa Nico, _why_ should I allow you to date my daughter?”

“We’d very much like to welcome you to our family, but we are sim-simply worried that you have a certain en… entice… enticing aura that will influence our little Maki-chan in a… mal… mal… bad way.” Cocoro spoke up as well.

“Mister Nishikino, sir, ma’am, I promise to uphold a standard to which you find acceptable enough to date your daughter, Maki-chan, if you’d allow me.” Nico nodded, more-so to herself for reassurance than to “Mr.” and “Mrs.” Nishikino. The latter two in front of her nodded dutifully, as though mentally copying her answer and saving it for later.

“We would hope you’d treat our Maki-chan with as much respect as a princess of her… demeanor and caliber ought to be treated,” Cocoa stumbled over her words, though made it through the line. She sat there for a moment while Nico waited for her gesture, and after Cocoa received the cue (in her defense, the print on the script was awfully tiny) and gestured towards Cotaro--resident Tsundere--who sat on the floor, drooling. He refused to look up at the mention of his name.

“Pst! Cotaro, that’s you!” Cocoro whispered.

Immediately, the toddler looked up from where he sat and, unpleasantly, a dribble of snot ran down his nostril as his finger retracted in confusion.

His “huh?” was drowned out by the sound of Nico breaking out into roaring laughter and snorting.

“Nico-nee! You broke character!” Cocoa scolded, crossing her arms. Nico could barely look her in the eyes through the amount of ridiculous laughing tears she was trying to shake off. She curled into a tight ball on the chair and wrapped her knees into her chest, trying to muffle her laughter through her skirt.

“Oh. My. _God_. This was such a terrible idea.” Nico sat up, slowly, and her siblings honestly couldn’t tell if she was laughing, or crying, or both. “This was such a terrible idea and I can’t believe I thought this would actually _help_. Ahh, I’m so screwed. What--just whatever,” she snorted again, shaking her head. Her siblings stared comically as their supposedly Mature and Definitely Responsible older sister tried to catch her breath.

Cotaro sat motionless while Nico petted his wild tuff of black hair. Then, she stood up and continued. “ _Ohh_ , isn’t Nico-nee so silly, everyone? It’s not your fault. I just need to try a little harder on my own; don’t worry. Nico-nee will be alright, just fine. She’ll come back home safe and sound, don’t you worry one bit. It’ll all be alright--just great.”

By now, they had really stopped questioning her train of thought.

Nico looked at the ridiculous scene strewn out before her--fucking _fingerpainting_ for god’s sake. What was she _thinking_? And making Cotaro Maki--priceless. Absolutely priceless. This was, by far, possibly the dumbest idea she’s ever had; not like that was saying much. But it was definitely dumber than a _lot_ of Honoka’s ideas, and _that_ was definitely saying something.

Nico dramatically flailed her arms, if that was even possible. “Oh man. Just _look_ at me. I’m really a mess.” She looked down at the wet spots in her skirt that had accumulated from her half-laughing half-crying show of emotions and cringed in disgust. There was no way she could go looking like _this_ \--this being the non-sophisticated flower-pattern skirt and matching tights, of course, not the wet stains. Those would dry. Probably.

“Nico-nee? Where are you going?” Cocoa mumbled from the couch as Nico walked over to the kitchen counter, all of her energy suddenly transferring from an emotional breakdown to trying to figure out when her favorite store closed. She practically dashed to and fro, picking up handful after handful of coupons from the kitchen counter, and stuffed them into her purse without bothering to check where they were even redeemable.

“To the store,” she said, barely able to close the pocket of her purse, filled to the brim with coupons. “I need to buy a dress. We don’t have anything nice.”

“But what about the nice red one? The one you’ve had since middle school?” Cocoro added. “Mama says you still fit.”

Nico looked down at her chest and frowned.

 

* * *

 

Her house--rather, mansion--wasn’t as large as Nico had imagined. It was _still_ pretty huge (bigger than three of her apartments put together, maybe), just not _quite_ the level of fancy and cordial welcome Nico had expected (a running fountain, a rose garden, a valet drive with some snobby dude in a suit waiting to take Nico’s non-existent car, maybe some free wine tasting, etc). Instead, she practically rolled up casually to the door, stood gawking at her front yard until she realized she was going to be late, and prepared herself, mentally.

 _Do it for her_. Nico breathed deeply and repeated the words as she rang the doorbell, loud and booming, as expected of a rich kid’s house.

She half-expected Maki’s father to open the door (probably to try and scare her off before she can even come in), but instead Maki swung it open and, again, _instead_ of the loving embrace and maybe even tender smooch Nico expected (that she had smiled for in anticipation) she was met with a frown. And a glare. And a rough yank. And a hissing whisper irritating her ear.

“Where the _hell_ have you been? I texted and called you _all_ day yesterday, and you didn’t answer _once_. And what the hell was up with yesterday morning? When you totally just bolted out of the blue? Why have you been acting so--”

“Okay, _okay_ , loaded questions. Can we handle one at a time? And can we handle this _in_ side? It’s really cold in this.” Nico gestured to the black dress she was wearing--the one she managed to buy, on sale, with two coupons--and Maki followed her hands until she realized _exactly_ what Nico was Trying to do (and nearly succeeded).

Her gaze bolted up and Nico flinched under her glare. “Just get inside. We’ll talk about it later.”

For a moment, she was confused as to why Maki’s voice lowered. Behind her, however, stood her mother, as Nico saw as soon as Maki had stepped to the side. Nico followed her in, shuffling underneath the gaze of her mother, who seemed rather excited.

“Nico-san, it’s so nice to meet you in person like this,” she said, gesturing for Nico to move towards the dining room. “We just finished dinner and the table’s all set, so please come in and sit down.”

 _Okay_. Definitely not the cold, harsh, reality-gripping threat she’d expected. But the evening was still young with _plenty_ of time to worsen. After all, there was a giant, burly, probably muscle-built Jewish man who also happened to know where every breakable bone in your body is. She could _do_ this. Lights, no camera, but definitely _action_.

The hallway was rather average for what she’d expect; there were some rather large paintings, portraits of people she didn’t recognize, but other than that and the occasional door it was rather empty. When they reached the dining room, Nico stood dumbfounded for a moment while Maki’s mother headed for the kitchen. Maki sat down. Next to her father. Who sat at the head of the table. Of course.

“Oh. Before I forget--here, Mrs. Nishikino,” she said, procuring a small gift box of cookies she’d baked earlier from her purse and bending slightly in respect as Maki’s mother gratefully took the box out of her hands.

“Oh, thank you, Nico-san! You didn’t have to bring anything. Please, take a seat.”

She motioned to the table as she continued her way to the kitchen. Nico took a seat across from Maki, who barely looked at her. Her father, however, couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her (whether because of her charming and stunning beauty or the fact that he probably thought his daughter could do better, Nico didn’t know). They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, Nico tapping the table and then her knee out of habit, shrinking under Maki’s annoyed glare. Though throughout the night, her father continued to stare. Did he ever even _blink_? Jesus.

“Yazawa Nico,” Maki’s father addressed her, “a pleasure to meet you.”

Nico gulped. “A pleasure to meet you too, sir,” she choked out. Don’t screw it up, Nico. Don’t screw it up. This was literally her _only_ chance to make a good first impression. And probably her only chance if she actually wanted to continue dating Maki. What if they had high standards? What if she already fucked up by croaking? What had Maki even _told_ them about her? Actually, thinking about it now, maybe she should’ve given Maki a call to ask her what her parents were even like.

Nico heard a cough out of the corner of her ear and turned to see Maki’s mother. She carried a glass of tea, placed it by Nico’s plate, and sat at the other end of the table, smiling.

Well… dating… start?

The noodles in front of her smelled good--it must’ve been her mother’s cooking. Well, it could’ve been her father’s too, but it _definitely_ wasn’t Maki’s. If it was Maki’s cooking, there’d probably be a swirling funnel of black crusted inedible goop in her bowl. And that was no exaggeration. Oh--they had a servant, didn’t they? Waki? Maybe she cooked it for them. It certainly seemed a bit fancier than anything she’d made before. She poked at it with her chopsticks, then took a bite so as not to seem rude. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten out--lewd and inappropriate jokes aside.

“How is it, Nico-san?” Maki’s mother spoke up.

Nico nodded and sipped. “It’s… really good. Thank you.” She smiled and straightened her posture. Her mother had an awfully mature aura about her--like a Maki who didn’t have her head shoved up her ass five feet deep. And for her age, she looked amazing. Maybe she could hold this against Maki somehow; she and her mother almost looked like they could be sisters.

“That’s good. It’s been awhile since I last cooked, so I was hoping I’d still be able to make something nice for us all to eat together. Hm, Maki-chan?”

Maki nodded, but looked away. Nico followed her line of sight, though immediately snapped back to attention when her father cleared his throat.

“How were classes yesterday, Maki?”

She shrugged, apparently uncomfortable. “They were good. I guess.”

He nodded. The dinner table remained eerily silent. The rambunctious activity of her siblings that Nico was so used to was replaced with an indifferent, almost indignant aura of droll formality. Though supposedly connected by the dinner table, the Nishikino family felt no less detached than Nico and one of her stalker-fans. Okay, maybe that was a bad analogy. Nico glanced between Maki and her mother, never daring to set eyes on the man sitting at the head of the table, taking bites every now and then and remaining focused on his bowl. Egh. This was so _awkward_. Maybe she should’ve invited Cocoa and Cocoro to ease the tension a little.

“Yazawa Nico.”

“Um, y-yes, s-sir?”

He leaned forward, threading his fingers together. Maki looked in the opposite direction, towards her mother, while Nico couldn’t find the spit to swallow down a lump.

“You were a part of that high school club, weren’t you,” he said, almost more of a statement than a question. “The ‘idol’ club?”

“O-oh. Yes, sir, I was its president--”

Nico fought the urge to slap a hand over her mouth. She glanced over at Maki, who shifted uncomfortably in her seat. President. Yeah, that sounded fine--but _idol_ president? _Now_ she fucked up, barely twenty minutes into dinner. Fantastic. That must’ve been a record.

“Right. Maki was in the same club as you.” He spoke plainly, almost matter-of-factly. He almost reminded her of her Calculus professor. Like he was silently judging her or taking notes on her performance. Nico wanted to shrivel up and die.

She didn’t say another word as the rest of the family continued eating. Thinking it was safe, she leaned down to take another bite of her meal—

Shame on her for thinking she was safe.

He leaned forward, blurting out of the blue: “Yazawa, I’d like to know what kind of person you are. What do you do? What do you plan on doing? What are your plans for the future? How far do you plan on taking this relationship with my daughter? And can I expect you to treat her well?”

Nico nearly choked on her food for the second time in two days. One question after another whizzed through and out her ear canal. Her jaw hung open as she tried to find _something_ to say, internally screaming. Maki looked white as a sheet; her mother turned to her, confused, as her knee continuously bounced and hit the bottom of the table.

“Ah--well, you see…” Think fast--but don’t blurt it out before you think, but _also_ don’t think for too long and—oh, god, she wasn’t going to make it out of this dinner alive, or even in one piece. “You see… Yazawa Nico… is a girl of many talents! She cooks, she cleans… she’s amazing at folding laundry and is fantastic with kids. I can be whatever Maki-chan needs me to be. I’m also great at making people smile, and--”

She stopped. Did she already run out of things to say? Uh oh. Maybe she should’ve written a resume alongside her will. She sheepishly laughed her speech away, scrambling for another subject to jump to, when she caught Maki fidgeting out of the corner of her eye.

Maki cleared her throat, standing up. “Papa, I think we should go have a talk very quickly.”

Her father stared. Stared _hard_. At Nico, at Maki, probably through the walls too. He stood up after what Nico could only assume was contemplation, and Maki followed him wordlessly. Nico turned to both of them, hoping for some kind of explanation. But Maki simply strode off, vain as ever in her sway.

Her mother chuckled, grabbing Nico’s attention. “That Maki-chan. She pretends to have it all under control, but really she’s just as nervous as you.”

Nico was about to respond when she heard faint, muffled voices coming from behind the wall. It was difficult to make out, and she certainly didn’t want to stand up while Maki’s mother was watching her--she’d think she’s some kind of eavesdropper. She made out “not Jewish” and “short” among other mumbled words (really? A jab at her height? Not cool) and pouted in her seat. _Maybe_ she was really kind of kid-like for her age, and _maybe_ she sucked at the whole Jewish thing, and _maybe_ she called Hebrew “Jew Speak,” and _maybe_ she thought Maki’s “tall it” was a blanket, but _come on_. She was _trying_ here. Give her some damn credit.

She wondered what they were discussing. Well, no, she _knew_ what they were discussing--they were discussing _her_. But she wondered what her father _thought_ of her. She certainly hoped they were only good things, but who knew with Maki’s family. She could’ve been a lawyer and he still (probably) would’ve judged her the same, maybe even harsher. So long as they never found out about her rabid obsession with gay idol girls, though, she’d probably be at _least_ better than a jobless moocher.

Oh. Shit. She forgot to empty her LP before she came. God fucking dammit.

Fifteen minutes later, they returned. Maki sat down and crossed her legs while her father stood beside his seat, facing Nico with some glaring intent in his eyes. Nico looked to Maki for some sort of cue, but she was already turned away. What a tsundere. Her father, on the other hand, was not-so-tsundere, so she obviously must’ve gotten it from her mother.

He, instead, was positively terrifyingly honest. As Nico would find out later.

Little did Nico know this long, long evening had only just begun.

 

* * *

 

(Much, much later, after the table had been cleared and Maki’s parents had retreated to whichever fancy family living room they wanted to, Nico pulled Maki aside and groaned for a good thirty seconds.

“Well, I would’ve _preferred_ to be called ‘amazing’ but ‘acceptable’ will have to do. Like hell I’m gonna argue with him. Jesus-Moses-God whatever you want, that was. The most. Terrifying experience. I have _ever_ had. I think he wanted to _strangle_ me at some point, I swear. And when he asked me what I planned on _doing_ for a living? You don’t know how many times I had to fight back a Nico Nico Nii--”

And that was all she could get out before Maki groaned back and slammed the door in her face, leaving Nico outside. She could walk home by herself.

Still, mission: success. Sort of.)


End file.
